


Definitely Not a Meet-Cute

by lunarqueens



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cute, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Perry is salty (as usual), Random & Short, Random Encounters, jd is a dork, kind of the opposite of a meet-cute tbh, my boys - Freeform, this is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarqueens/pseuds/lunarqueens
Summary: JD keys someone's car, only to find out that said someone is really kind of unfairly handsome.Oh, and he also happens to be the attending physician at JD's new job. Because JD's luck isjust that great!





	Definitely Not a Meet-Cute

**Author's Note:**

> Random thing I came up with from a list of fic prompts. I love these two so much I just can't get over it. In any case, hope it's enjoyable!

“I swear, dude, if that asshole parked in my spot again I’m gonna do it.”

Turk sighed. “Dude. Bad idea. Trust me on this. _Really_ bad idea!”

JD crossed his arms. “What would you do? Every single damn day, this person parks right in front of our apartment! Right in front of it! And it’s not like we can park in another spot, oh no, because they’re all taken! So we have to park a whole block down! Do you know how annoying that is?”

“Well, yes, actually,” Turk replied patiently. “Because dude, we kind of use the same car.”

Grumbling, JD slumped lower in his seat. “Well, it’s dumb. And I’m tired of it.”

“Usually I’d be all for keying someone’s car, trust me. But JD, this guy is just not someone you want to mess with. Trust Uncle Turk, okay?”

“First of all, never call yourself that. Second of all, how do you even know that? Have you talked to the guy?” he paused. “Or girl?”

“It’s a guy.” Turk shuddered. “And yes. I wish I hadn’t, but yes.”

“Well then why didn’t _you_ tell him to stop parking in our spot?”

“I tried! But he was -” Turk’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “He was scary, dude. Like, scarier than that one college professor.”

“Dr. Caine?” at the mention of that name, a chill went down JD’s spine. “The one who found my diary and started reading it aloud in class that one time I fell asleep?” That had been a very, very scarring experience. He really had not needed that entire class to find out about his secret leg-waxing habits. 

Turk sighed. “Dude. I can’t believe that is a sentence that actually came out of your mouth. But yes, that one.”

Still shivering at the memory, JD didn’t reply for a moment. He couldn’t deny that he would definitely prefer to avoid a run-in with someone scarier than the dreaded Dr. Caine.

Then they pulled up to their apartment and saw that the same damn car was parked in their spot. Again.

“Okay, that’s it.” JD yanked the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car.

“Woah woah woah!” Turk scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt. “JD! Vanilla Bear! Trust me, this is a really, really, _really_ awful idea! I cannot even put into words how bad this idea is!”

“Oh shut up, you tried to steal a cadaver one time,” JD said dismissively. “Even if you’re too much of a wuss to do anything about this, _I_ am not!” He was already standing next to the car with his keys held up like a weapon. “You’ve always been the one to do crazy stunts that you never get caught for. Well guess what, baby? That’s about to change!” As he spoke, he stepped closer to the car. He noticed with some regret that it was actually really nice-looking - a sleek black Porsche. 

Oh, well. He placed the key on it’s smooth, shiny surface.

“JD! Don’t you dare!” Turk sounded genuinely freaked. But JD could feel it - this had to be done. Something had to change here. He was not looking forward to walking an entire block to get home in a raging torrent of a rainstorm once that season rolled around. In fact, he just wasn't going to put up with it.

“Sorry, Chocolate Bear, I have to do this,” he called back. Moments later, he began to drag the key across the side of the car. It made a rather horrible screeching noise, which he really didn’t appreciate, but it would be worth it when -

“A- _hem_.”

Their car door slammed shut suddenly as Turk leapt out. “Yeah, you’re on your own,” his friend informed him before running as fast as he could across the sidewalk and through the front doors of their apartment building.

“What the - dude!” JD called after him, frustrated. It was only when he turned back to the car and saw a blurry figure standing behind him in the reflection that he fully realized he wasn’t alone. 

_Shit_.

Slowly, he turned around. Just behind him, arms crossed, stood a tall man who looked to be a bit older than him. The man had very broad shoulders and springy-looking brown curls that JD suddenly felt the urge to touch.

_Okay, not the time, NOT THE TIME!_

Actually, he was kind of alarmingly handsome. JD gulped. _Great_. 

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” with a jerk of his head, the man indicated the long scratch mark that had made a wobbly trail across a good one-third of his car.

“Uh, well, sir -” _SIR? What the hell are you doing?_ “- I mean mister -” _SERIOUSLY?_

“Spit it out, princess,” the man said flatly, swiping a finger across his nose. “Much as I’d love to stand here and listen to you babble like a mentally deranged parrot, I haven’t got all day.”

JD cleared his throat and tried to stand up straighter. “You were parking in my spot. All the time. So I, um, keyed your car. A little bit.”

The man’s eyebrows shot so far up that JD felt sure they might disappear into his hairline. He tilted his head forward and narrowed his eyes (which, JD was suddenly noticing, were a very nice shade of blue). “Let me get this straight…” he said slowly. “You were pissy because I was taking your precious parking space, so instead of coming and talking to me like a normal human being, you keyed my car? Let me guess, next you’re going to TP my house and set up a water bucket over my front door so I get all _wet_ when I go outside to get the paper.”

JD tried to talk, promptly choked on air, and then shut his mouth. Eventually he managed to stutter “My roommate said he tried to talk to you and -”

“Your roommate? The one who just ran away like an axe-wielding murderer was hot on his trail?” the man snorted. “Yeah, what he did was come up to me, say something that sounded vaguely like he was choking on a golf ball, and then apologize three times and run back inside like he did just now. I think I may have scared him.”

“I wonder why,” JD mumbled under his breath. The man barked out a laugh, though it sounded less like a _ha-ha that’s funny_ laugh and more like a _I’m going to kill you in your sleep_ laugh.

“I heard that, Patricia. Now listen. Usually I’d kick your ass so hard you wouldn’t be able to sit down, walk, or even smile comfortably for a month. But lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today and you’re kind of attractive in a girly, sad-puppy-dog way. So I’m going to let you off with a warning. If you _eh-ver_ do anything like this again, I’ll probably kill you. But this time, you’re just going to pay for the repairs and we’ll call it peachy-keen.” He grinned widely and held a hand out to JD. “Whaddaya say?”

Nodding profusely, hardly believing he was still breathing, JD grasped his hand and shook it. Unsurprisingly, his grip was very, very strong.

“Oh,” he added suddenly, still shaking JD’s hand, “and if you ever see me again, you have to buy me a drink. No arguments or I pummel you right here, right now. Do we have a deal, Denise?”

JD opened and closed his mouth for several seconds before he managed to say “Yes, sir, we have a deal.”

The man snorted. “And don’t call me sir. I’m not a military general. Call me Your Most Supreme Highness. Or at least Perry.”

Feeling a smile tug at the corner of his lips, JD glanced up at him. “Okay. Perry.”

After a slightly-too-long-to-be-comfortable pause, Perry tapped his chin. “Y’know what? I like ‘Your Most Supreme Highness’ better. Now cough up, kiddo. I want to spend as little time driving around in a keyed Porsche as possible.”

“My, uh...my wallet is upstairs,” JD mumbled nervously.

“Well go get it! Chop chop! Before I change my mind and sock you!”

Turning around, JD hurdled the bike rack on the sidewalk, hit the ground wrong and nearly fell into the glass doors, staggered inside and immediately bolted for the stairs. He took them two at a time. By the time he reached their apartment door he was clutching a stitch in his side and gasping for breath, but he’d made it in - he checked his watch - two minutes. He burst inside, where Turk was splayed out on the couch.

“VB! You’re alive!” he yelled, jumping up and trying to engulf JD in a hug. JD dodged it, causing him to nearly fall on his face. “Hey!”

“I won’t be alive for long if I don’t find my wallet _right now_ so for the love of all things good please help me!” he said in a rush, already flipping over cushions in a frenzied search. 

Turk gaped. “What the hell happened?”

“He’s not going to kill me and I think he may have sort of asked me out,” JD picked up Rowdy and checked under his paws. “Now help me look before he changes his mind and sets this building on fire!”

“Holy shit,” Turk muttered before diving into the kitchen to check the cupboards.

* * *

The next day, as they got ready for work (their first day!) Turk still wouldn’t shut up about the incident yesterday. It was starting to get annoying. He leaned on the doorframe as JD carefully applied product to his hair (it took a lot of work to get it looking so gloriously tousled).

“Okay, just run me through it one more time. He really asked you out? For real?”

JD sighed. “I told you, he just said that if I ever ran into him again I had to buy him a drink. Oh, and he called me attractive in a ‘girly, puppy-dog kind of way.’”

Turk snorted. “Can’t argue with that.”

“For your information,” JD groused, slicking more product into his hair, “there have been _many_ people who have found me very ruggedly handsome.”

“Dude, the day someone calls you ruggedly handsome will be the day Rowdy has puppies.” Turk laughed.

“Rowdy can’t have puppies,” he mumbled. “He’s a boy.”

“Exactly my point!”

* * *

Work, as it turned out, was terrifying.

Half the time JD didn’t know what the heck was going on and the other half of the time he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he seemed to miss the tiniest of things. Not to mention he was still terrified to actually touch any of his patients, which, as it turned out, was not something that worked out too well in a hospital. Oh, and he was pretty sure the janitor was out to get him, which really wasn't all that reassuring.

Currently, he was in the hospital ward with his new friend (hopefully his friend) Carla. So far, she was pretty much the only person at the hospital who didn’t make him want to run and hide in a supply closet. “We’re waiting for Dr. Cox,” she informed him, fiddling with the IV drip.

Just then, the door swung open, and in walked -

“Oh, hell,” Dr. Cox said immediately upon seeing JD, who made a wheezing noise that sounded something like “ _whuh_ ,”

It was the hot keyed-car guy with the broad shoulders and curly hair. Perry. It was Perry. And he worked _here_ at this hospital.

_Hello and welcome to today’s episode of “Why the Hell is my Life Like This”, starring your very own John “JD” Dorian and a special guest star, the intimidating and attractive Perry Cox!_

After a long, awkward silence, Carla, looking back and forth between the two of them, said “Okay, I feel like there’s something I’m really missing here.”

Perry - no, wait, it’s Dr. Cox now - shook his head and, jerking his chin at JD, said “Place an IV for me.”

“We’ll talk later,” mumbled JD, hands shaking as he reached for the IV tube.

“Carla, can I ask you a personal question? Do you spray the perfume on or just fill your bathtub up and splash around in it?” Dr. Cox said conversationally, looking at Carla with raised eyebrows. 

She gave him a reproving look. “I smell nice.”

Meanwhile, JD was still struggling with the IV. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before! (That had been with cadavers, but still.) All he had to do was just...stick it right through the skin…just stab it through, come on!

_Don’t you dare gag right now. Don’t you dare!_

Dr. Cox whistled. “Time's up. Carla, would you do it for him, please? I also need an A.B.G.”

JD looked up indignantly. “Why are you telling her?”

“Shut up and watch.” 

(In all honesty, he wished he could just do that all day. It sounded much less stressful. And terrifying.)

“Be nice to Bambi!” Carla told him reproachfully. 

Sighing, Dr. Cox crossed his arms. “Why does this _gomer_ got to try and die everyday during my lunch?”

“That’s a little insensitive,” JD said quietly.

The doctor looked up at him and JD could almost swear he heard thunder.

_Mistake, mistake, mistake, very very big mistake!_

“Man's 92 years old, he has full dementia, he doesn't even know we're here, he's inches from Carla's rack and he hasn't even flinched.” Dr. Cox counted off on his fingers, his eyes never leaving JD’s face. He could almost feel the hole that was being burned through his forehead.

“Aww, that is so sweet,” Carla said sarcastically.

Dr. Cox gave her a serious look, nodding. “It _is_.”

Meanwhile, JD was grasping at straws. “What about his subconscious?”

Gritting his teeth, Dr. Cox leaned in close to the man’s ear. “Eisenhower was a sissy,” he said in a stage whisper. Then he leapt back, fists at the ready, looking apprehensive. 

Shockingly enough, nothing happened.

He looked at JD with wide eyes. “I think by the grace of God we’re gonna be okay. Oh, and from now on, whenever I’m in the room you’re definitely not allowed to talk.”

With that, he stormed out. JD raised his hand halfway in an awkward wave, then dropped it to his side. 

_Great job, Dorian! First you keyed his car and now he thinks you’re a complete idiot!_

Carla gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder as she left the room. “Don’t take it personally, Bambi. He’s like that with everybody.”

Somehow, he knew he was still going to take it personally.

(He was right.)

* * *

In fact, later that day, he was still so busy taking it personally that he almost didn’t notice that someone was calling his name.

“Hey! Newbie! You with the big hair!”

Okay, so maybe the reason he hadn’t noticed was because said person wasn’t actually calling him by his name. But then again, they’d noticed his hair - score!

He turned around and froze in his tracks when he saw none other than Perry Cox heading straight for him. Without slowing his pace, he grabbed JD by the arm and flipped him around. “Walk.”

“Yessir,” JD stammered, falling into step beside him.

“Now look,” Dr. Cox said, steering him around a corner rather violently, “I can’t deny that I was definitely surprised to just walk in on you here this morning. I really didn’t have you pegged as a doctor. I’d been thinking more ‘recently divorced hairdresser who tries to avoid her problems by solving everybody else’s.’”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” JD muttered. 

Around another corner they went. He was pretty sure his shoulder was about two corners away from getting dislocated. Meanwhile, Dr. Cox kept talking. “The thing is, Priscilla, you’re an intern. And as it turns out, you’re one of _those_ interns. And by _those_ interns, I mean the ones who routinely make me want to take a shotgun and blow my brains straight out the back of my head.”

“Oh.” Well. That stung a lot more than he expected it to.

“But.” they finally stopped, right in front of the on-call room. “That doesn’t mean I don’t stand by what I said yesterday. You did key my car, Newbie. You owe me one. More than one, probably, considering how much that damn Porsche cost me.”

JD blinked. “....what are you saying?”

“Aw, hell, Jennifer, do I have to spell it out for you?” Dr. Cox pointed first at himself, then at JD. “ _I_ want _you_ to take me out for a drink - possibly several drinks. Oh, and you have to pay for all of them. Keyed my car, and all.”

At a complete loss for words, JD simply gaped at him. “You - me - _drinks?_ ”

The older doctor nodded his head slowly, looking at JD with comically wide eyes. “Good job. You’re really coming along on your big-girl words, aren’t ya, little buddy?”

Finally getting ahold of himself, JD stood up straighter. “I would be honored to take you out for a drink. Drinks. Dr. Cox - I mean Perry - I mean, uh, Your Most Supreme Highness?”

_Wow. Ten out of ten, Dorian. Great flirting skills._

Dr. Cox grinned. “Oh golly gee, this will be fun. I’ll pick you up at nine, yeah, Newbie?”

“Please do,” he blurted, then mentally face-palmed himself. That was smooth.

With a wink, Dr. Cox strode away, leaving JD with a red face and slightly trembling hands.

“Nine,” he said under his breath. “He’ll pick me up at nine - he’ll pick me up at nine!”

He thrust his hands into the air and let out a whoop that could be heard all across the second floor.

_*three months later*_

JD pressed Perry up against the door of the supply closet, his hands clutching at Perry’s thick curls. The kiss was heated and desperate - just the thing JD needed after the particularly stressful day he was having. He moaned slightly as Perry gripped his waist and pressed their bodies together.

Perry pulled away slightly and grinned at him. “You taste like cherries.”

“I can’t help it if Carla brings me lollipops every morning. It would be rude to say no.”

He kissed JD again, then leaned his forehead against the other man’s. “You’re adorable, and if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll push you out a window.”

“Nah, you love me too much…”

There was a sudden, sharp knock on the door, startling both of them. “Is JD in there?”

Perry groaned, and JD swallowed loudly. “Y’know, the fact that people actually know to look for me in this particular supply closet should probably send us some kind of message, but I’m pretty sure we’re just ignoring it.”

“Unless someone is _literally dying_ , Tanya here is a little tiny bit busy!” Perry called through the door, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He rolled his eyes at JD. “Those damn patients. Always trying to go and die during our after-lunch makeout break, am I right, Newbie?”

Before JD could reply, there was an audible sigh from the other side of the door that sounded suspiciously like Carla. “Hi, Perry. Bambi, we need your help with Mrs. Angeli. Should I come back in five minutes or can you two manage to tear yourselves apart for a half hour?”

JD looked at Perry glumly, his arms still looped around his neck. “I should probably go.”

“You definitely should,” Perry replied, gently pushing him off. “As much as I love kissing you, Mary-Anne, the patients are more important.”  
He opened the door and nearly shoved JD right into Carla by accident. “But don’t forget, dinner tonight at eight.”

“Let me guess - I’m paying.” 

Perry grinned and winked cheekily. “Good guess, Scarlett. But hey, you owe me. You did key my car, after all.” 

He turned and began to stroll away, hands in his pockets. JD called after him. “You’re just going to milk that for the rest of your life, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am!”

As JD watched him walk away, whistling, the muscles in his back rippling, he found that he really didn’t mind that at all. As long as he had Perry, he probably wouldn’t mind, well, anything.

He grinned, running a hand through his hair. _Damn, I’m lucky_.


End file.
